


We can try, my dearest. We can try…

by PatientAndKind



Category: JonTron - Fandom
Genre: F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jon Jafari loves theater, Jon is slightly ooc at times, Not Beta Read, OC does not, i had writers block for like two weeks and the suddenly wrote 20 pages in one day, i hope you like it tho, i'm trying really hard tbh, so much fluff it should be a sheep, takes place in 2008, this took me forever, updates may be slow, your feedback is much appreciated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 19:08:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11424279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatientAndKind/pseuds/PatientAndKind
Summary: If there's one thing she despises, it's high school. Until a new student swoops in, making her fall head over heels, and changing her mind. But that's impossible, right? After all, no one can really make high school enjoyable. Right?





	1. Not a Date!

High school? More like a malignant tumor that plagues you for four years.

I was never a fan of my high school. It wasn’t exactly in a very nice neighborhood, so getting caught in the bathroom smoking pot seemed to be a monthly event. The desks were dangerously old; one wrong move and you’d be flat on your ass with a bent chair and a classroom full of people laughing their asses off. The lunches were always cold, too salty, too bland, or too overcooked and frozen at the same time.

I always found myself thinking “just _ more year(s) to go” from freshman to senior year, but it never really helped. It wasn’t until august of senior year that my attitude changed, which was also the first time in my life that I’d gotten a detention slip.

I was never really a bad kid, just fed up with whatever situation seemed to be going on, which there always was. This was the first time I had ever really acted out in front of a teacher.

That morning started off with me over sleeping, leaving me ten minutes to brush my hair and teeth, put deodorant on, and get dressed. Mom had already left for work, so asking for a ride wasn’t an option. I missed the bus, which I would have been able to catch if I didn’t sleep past my alarm. So I had to walk the eight blocks to my school, half of which consisted of me running to get there on time. I tripped over my own two feet when I was almost there and busted my lip open, resulting in me wadding up some tissue in my backpack to staunch the trickle of blood. I arrived in my math class just before the bell rang, and, as the lesson started, I realized I didn’t have a pencil.

“Mrs. Carpenter?” I asked, raising my hand.

She turned away from the whiteboard, annoyed that I had interrupted her “oh-so-interesting” lesson about parabolas, raising her eyebrows in question.

“Could I please have a pencil?”

“You never have a pencil! Really shows how much you care about your education.”

Curse words are generally taboo, especially if you’re in front of someone older than you and are under the age of eighteen. However, with it just being me and my mother, I was no stranger to swearing.

But what surprised me is that some of the words I said to Mrs. Carpenter after her remark, I didn’t even know I had in my vocabulary.

The classroom went silent for a few seconds, and then went completely wild. Half the class was in hysterics, some others were just “ooh-ing” and saying “sick burn!”, and the select rest of the class just started clapping, since no one really cared for Mrs. Carpenter very much anyways.

Mrs. Carpenter didn’t say anything. She just trudged, completely red-faced, to her desk, scribbled out a detention slip, handed it to me, and continued teaching the lesson.

I can’t say I was really surprised, in fact, I’m in disbelief I didn’t get suspended for calling the teacher a…nevermind.

The rest of the day went as normally as to be expected. I went to English and science after math, ate a soggy hot dog and fries for lunch, then continued on to choir.

Choir was always my favorite class in all of my schools. Elementary, middle school, all eleven years of my previous schooling resulted in one glorious hour of singing. One hour where the rest of the world left me alone, and I could forget everything except the harmonious voices beside me.

“Alright everyone, I have exciting news!” Mr. Young said excitedly.

“We’re getting official robes?” someone asked.

“We’re going to competition this year?”

“McDonalds is bringing back super-sizing?”

Mr. Young cleared his throat and smiled.

“I’m looking into that, I already signed us up, and no, unfortunately. But, we _do_ have a new student today! Come on up, introduce yourself!”

A shy looking boy approached Mr. Young and faced us. He had black curly hair, which was on its way to becoming an afro, and dark brown eyes.

“Hey, I’m uh… I’m Jon Jafari and I just transferred here from California High.” He said quietly.

“Boy, you’re a long way from home, ain’t ‘cha?” Turon, a rather eccentric baritone asked.

“You don’t look like you’re from Cali! Where’s your tan and beach waves?” another boy questioned.

The class erupts in laughter, and I see Jon is growing redder by the minute.

“Come on guys, give him a break. It’s his first day in a new school.” I remark, and the class falls silent.

Boy if awkwardness was a smell, it could have choked you.

“Well, Jon here is an alto, and seeing as Skylar is one of the nicest people here, Jon will be next to her.” Mr. Young declared, motioning for Jon to join my on the risers.

As Mr. Young is going on and on about the colors of our new robes, I turn to Jon.

“Hey, if anyone in this class gives you trouble, let me know.”

“Thank you, and thanks for, you know, telling ‘em to back off.” He replies in a whisper.

I look around to see the class both listening intently and goofing around.

“This class, we’re good people Jon. We’ve been through a lot together, and we’re kinda like a family, we give each other a hard time, but in reality, there guys have helped me though some tough times. Please, don’t hold it against them, if you can.”

Jon just smiles.

“You should have seen my last school. If you were a new kid, you could expect one major prank by the end of the day. This one time, a kid named Condor transferred, and some guy managed to fit a shit ton of condoms in the kid’s locker. The kid was a good sport about it though. Hell, they even ended up dating.”

“That sounds so sickeningly cute, I’m gonna puke.”

“Yeah, it was pretty adorable. What’s with your lip, by the way?” he asks, hushed.

I tell him about my awful morning, resulting in my two souvenirs, my detention slip, and my lip.

“You seriously called her that? Dude, that took some major balls, I’m sure.”

“Oh yeah. But I suppose it could be worse, I could have gotten suspended.”

“Hey, you just reminded me, I’ve got detention too. Got caught playing with my DS during English class.”

“What game?”

“Mario 64 DS.”

_Holy crap, where have you been all my life?_

“Alright you guys, the bell’s about to ring, so get outta here. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

I pack up my bag, making sure to remember the pencil from earlier. Jon meets me at the door, and hoists his backpack over his right shoulder.

“I guess I’ll see you in detention.” He says, grinning.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll see you.” I reply with a smile.

French class goes smoothly, but it always does, considering our French teacher is pregnant and just sleeps for the whole hour. By the time 3:00 rolls around, I’m shaking with anxiety. What even happens in detention? Do we get yelled at for an hour? Is it just 60 minutes of dead silence?

But when I walk through the door, I know I’m in for a treat.

Mr. Ellis, my sophomore math instructor, is sitting at the front desk, screwing around on his laptop. He was always the teacher who was more of a friend than a teacher, and more often than not, his class hour involved coloring pages, movies, or a potluck.

“Skylar! Never thought I’d see you in here, girlie. What did you do?”

“I called Mrs. Carpenter a-”

I lean over and whisper the rest in his ear.

“It’s about time! None of the staff really likes her either. Anyways, go ahead and sit and do whatever, I know you’re a good kid.”

A knocking sound is heard at the door, and Jon gingerly enters.

“Now him, I’m not so sure.”

I look behind me and wink at Jon.

“Oh, this guy? Crazy dangerous. Murdured three midgets in cold blood and then ran off to San Antonio.” I state dramatically.

Jon walks up behind me and laughs.

“Yep, cops never caught me. To them I’m known as ‘Carlos the Midget Murderer.’”

“Well seeing as Skylar’s only 5’1”,” Mr. Ellis laughs, “It looks like she’s got something to worry about.”

“You never know. I could go back to crime” Jon snaps, “ _just like that.”_

So, detention turned out a lot more fun than I anticipated. Mr. Ellis just watched ‘Live Free or Die Hard’ on his laptop, while Jon and I took turns on Mario 64.

“So, you got a boyfriend?”

“That’s awfully forward Jonny Boy.” I smirk, trying to concentrate on getting the next star. “I only met you today.”

“I’m just curious.” He replies. “It’s an ice breaker. ‘What’s your favorite color? How many siblings do you have? What’s your high score in Pac Man? How many bowls of cereal can you eat without throwing up?’ You know, those sorts of questions.”

“Let’s see. Uh, purple, none, 650,000, and four. What about you?”

“Dark green; like a forest, zero, 2,780, and seven.”

“2,780 is you high score in PacMan? Weak, dude. And to answer your first question, I’ve been single for two years.”

Jon’s face twists in confusion.

“Why?”

That’s kinda weird, now that I think about it. No one’s really asked me that before.

“The guy was a controlling jerk-wad. We dated for six months before I broke up with him, and I can honestly say, as a 15 year old, that was the most mature decision I’ve made in my life, so far.” I say quietly, though I’m not sure why. Maybe I just don’t want to hear myself talk about such an incompetent shark.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. He lost a pretty cool person. I had a girlfriend in California, but we weren’t really together that much. I only saw her on the weekends, since her parents were divorced. I found out she was cheating on me, because her _dad_ , of all people, called me to tell me. I didn’t believe him at first, I thought maybe he was just trying to punish his daughter for something, but he sent me a picture of her kissing some other guy. When I confronted her about it, she just said he was there for her when I wasn’t.”

“Wow Jon, I’m…really sorry. That must have hurt.”

Jon waves his hand in dismissal.

“Nah, its fine. I was a freshman; I didn’t even know what sex was, let alone what love feels like.” He says, a bit withdrawn.

I check my watch, and notice it’s almost 4 pm.

“Ellis, can we go now?” I call to the sleeping man.

“Huh?!” he shouts, startled from his nap. He glances at the clock and rubs his eyes. “Uh, yeah, go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

Jon and I walk outside, sit on the sidewalk, and I call my mom.

“Hello?”

“Hey mama, can you come pick me up from school?”

“I’m sorry hon, I’m still at work. I can call you cab if you wa- wait, why are you getting out so late?”

“Uh, I got detention for yelling at a teacher this morning…” I say sheepishly.

“Were you justified in doing it?”

“I think I was, considering what happened this morning.”

The other end goes silent, and I can almost see my mother’s ‘we’ll talk about it when you get home’ face.

“We’ll talk about it when you get home. Do you still want me to call a cab?”

Jon taps me on the shoulder, and I look over to see him holding a set of keys and gesturing towards the parking lot.

“That’s okay; my friend said he’ll drive me home. I’ll see you soon mama.”

“Okay honey, I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.”

I hang up, and rise to follow Jon to his car.

“Thank you Jon. I do _not_ feel like walking another eight blocks today.”

“Don’t sweat it. Would want you to bust your lip again, now would we?”

I scowl at him, to which, he holds up his hands in an ‘I surrender’ sort of way and smiles.

“Kidding.”

He opens the door for me, and I sit inside. He joins me, and I tell him my address so he can punch it into his GPS. We pull out of the parking lot and begin to drive down Glenwood Avenue.

“Jon?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

This takes him slightly aback, and he looks at me for a few seconds.

“I dunno.” He shrugs. “Why are you being so nice to _me?_ ”

“You just seem like a fun new guy who deserves a friend. But I’m really nothing special.”

His expression darkens, and he frowns.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“But-”

“No, I mean it. I’ve only known you for three hours and I think you’re one of the nicest and funniest people I’ve met in a long time.”

This, of course, makes me blush, and I turn away, pretending to look out the window.

“…Thanks.”

A few moments of silence follow, and we pull into my driveway.

“Jon, have you ever been here before?”

“To your house? No.”

I laugh and shake my head.

“No, I mean have you ever visited Colorado before?”

“ _Oh._ No, I haven’t.” he says, returning a smile.

“Then let me show you around. Tomorrow. Meet me here at 8 am.”

“And you say _I’m_ the forward one.”

“It’s not a date, it’s a…tour…thing.”

Jon raises an eyebrow in amusement.

“I’d love to go on a tour-thing-date with you.”

“It’s not a date!” I say, exasperated.

“Alright, whatever you say. Why don’t you give me your number, in case anything comes up and we need to reschedule.”

I tell him my number, and grab my backpack from the back seat.

“8 am tomorrow?”

“8 am tomorrow.” I confirm.

Jon nods, and begins to back out of the drive way.

“Thanks again for the ride!” I call.

He nods, waves, and drives off.

I unlock the front door and plop down on the sofa, sighing. Jeez, what a day. I had what felt like a 20 mile run, got my first detention slip, met a new guy in choir, who, no matter how much I deny myself, I find rather cute, went to detention and played Mario 64 with him when I was supposed to be reprimanded. Minus the whole over sleeping thing, today had been the most fun I’ve had in a while.

I have no idea when mom’s going to get home, so I start on my math homework.

“Okay,” I say, determined. “‘In a lake, there is a patch of lily pads. Every day, the patch doubles in size. If it takes 48 days for the patch to cover the entire lake, how many days would it take for the patch to cover half of the lake?’”

_What?_

I reread the problem to myself a few more times, but it’s still just as befuddling.

“24, maybe?”

_No, it’s too easy._

I decide to move on from the first problem. The rest of it is pretty standard stuff that I can figure out, and I finish the page in about twenty minutes.

“I’m home!” Mom says, walking through the front door.

“Hey mama,” I reply, going over my answers. “How was work today?”

“Same old, same old. How was school?”

“It was great!”

Mom gives me a puzzled look, and I remember what I told her on the phone.

“And I’m sorry and I love you.” I quickly add.

“Tell me why you yelled at a teacher this morning. And what happened to your lip?”

“Well I slept through my alarm, and I had to run to school. On my way there, I fell and busted my lip, and my math teacher got mad and said ‘you must not care about your education’ when I didn’t have a pencil. So, I kind of…lost my temper and said a few choice words. I’m sorry; I know I shouldn’t have-”

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“Your morning sounds awful, and on top of it, you have a nasty gash on your lip. Are you okay sweetie?”

I smile, and hug my mother.

“Yeah, I’m fine mom.”

She sits beside me, reads over my math homework, and whistles.

“Woo boy, is _this_ what they’re teaching you kids nowadays?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh, and if you got detention, why did you say your day went great?”

Without warning, my face flushes, and I look away.

“Oh my gosh, you met someone!” Mom exclaims. “You met a boy, didn’t you?”

“No!” I say in an unsteady voice.

“What’s his name?”

“I didn’t meet any-” I begin, but realize it’s no use. “…Jon. Which reminds me, can I _please_ borrow the car tomorrow? Pretty please?”

“What for?”

“He just moved here from California and I wanted to show him the mountains and stuff. I thought it would be nice for him to see them.”

“You asked him on a date already?”

“It’s not a date!” I almost yell, but remember I’m talking to my mom.

She sits thinking for a moment. I can almost hear her thought process. _Is her room clean? Yes, she cleaned it yesterday. Did she do her homework? Yes, I just looked over it. Does she really like this boy?_

“Do you really like this boy, Skylar?”

I open my mouth to tell her ‘no, he’s just a friend’, but I recall that we’re mother and daughter. It’s only us in this big wide world, and if we’re going to tell each other something, we should at least be honest about it.

“I don’t know mom,” I admit, laying back into the couch. “I just met him today, but he just… He’s just so nice and funny and…”

“Cute?”

“That too.” I smile.

Mom looks at me, serene. She must remember what it’s like to have a crush in high school, being so head over heels it seemed ridiculous.

“Well…you’re lucky I stopped working weekends.”

I wrap my arms around her neck and pull her into a tight hug.

“Thank you mama!”

I get up from the couch, but she stops me.

“You’d better pack yourselves a lunch. If you’re gonna hike, you’re gonna get hungry.”

“Right!”

I rush to the kitchen, wash my hands, then realize I have no idea what Jon likes on his sandwiches.

My phone vibrates, and I receive a text from an unfamiliar number.

 

**From: Unknown Number**

**4:42 PM**

**Hey Sky, it’s Jon. Here’s my number and stuff!**

I smile.

 

**To: Unknown Number**

**4:42 PM**

**Hi Jonny Boy! Quick question, what do you like on your sandwiches? Mayo? LTO? Cheese? Meat?**

**From: Unknown Number**

**4:43 PM**

**That’s five questions, lol. Yes, yes, American, and turkey please. Thank you**

**To: Unknown Number**

**4:44 PM**

**Don’t be a smart allek, or I’ll spit in your sandwich. Dress light tomorrow. It’s gonna be hot**

I grab the bread and sandwich ingredients and begin to make two sandwiches.

 

**From: Unknown Number**

**4:44 PM**

**O_o  pls no. I’m sorry, but I am a genius and can’t help being smart.**  
  


Wrapping the sandwiches in tinfoil, I walk to the cabinet to grab a bag of chips.

 

**To: Unknown Number**

**4:45 PM**

**I’m gonna ignore that last part. What kind of chips you want?**

**From: Unknown Number**

**4:45 PM**

**Whatever’s fine, im not picky** **J**

Alright, sour cream and cheddar it is then.

 

**To: Unknown Number**

**4:45 PM**

**Okay, I’m gonna go. Go to bed early, the air at high altitude tires you out pretty fast. See you tomorrow!** **J**

****

I put our lunches in the fridge and walk to my room, to find my cat, Siri, is curled up on my bed.

“This is my bed, butthead. You can’t just lay there whenever you want.”

She lifts her head and looks at me with mild interest, then lies back down.

“Don’t you ignore me.”

I lie with her and begin to scratch behind her ears.

“This is a weird question, but, do you believe in love at first sight?”

She blinks tiredly.

“I mean, _I_ kind of do, but then again, I believed in Santa until I was fourteen.”

Siri yawns and stretches out her front paws.

_And now you’re asking your cat for relationship advice, crazy._

After dinner, I take a quick shower and brush my teeth, thinking about tomorrow. I just hope I can get through it without making myself look like an idiot, but I don’t think I’ll get lucky in that department. My phone vibrates once more, shaking me from my train of runaway thoughts.

 

**From: Unknown Number**

**9:07 PM**

**Goodnight, see you tomorrow! (See, I’m going to bed early like you told me to)**

I go into my contacts and decide to add his number.

**To: Jonny-Boy** **J**

**9:07 PM**

**Good, you’re gonna need that energy! See you tomorrow at eight! (BTW bring a bathing suit)** **J**

I slip into my pj’s and am just getting into bed when my door opens.

“Oh good, I was just coming in to tell you to get some sleep.” Mom says quietly.

“I am, don’t worry.”

She sits at the end of my bed, like she used to when I was little and had a bad dream.

“Skylar, don’t ever let a boy get in the way of what you really want.” She states intently.

I think for a moment before responding.

“What if the boy _is_ what I want?”

She chuckles and ruffles my hair.

“Then you need to re-evaluate your life. No, all joking aside, I can tell you really like Jon. You just have that…sparkle in your eyes, and I haven’t seen that since you were a kid.” She laughs and shakes her head. “I don’t want you to get hurt again honey. So, if he’s anything like-”

“He’s not mama. I know it, Jon’s not like that.”

Mom gives me a look that says ‘i-really-hope-you’re-right-because-you’re-only-gonna-learn-from-experience’ and I frown.

“Mama, do you-” I’m about to ask her what I asked Siri earlier, but decide against it. “Do you have any sunscreen for tomorrow?”

She nods.

I’ll give it to you tomorrow. Get some sleep sweet pea; tomorrow’s your first hike in years.”

Mom gives me a kiss on the forehead and exits my room, closing the door softly behind her.

_I know what I’m doing._

_At least, I hope I do._


	2. Best Date Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp, it's a date. (But you already knew that, didn't you?)

There are certain sounds that are unappealing to the human ear. A crying baby, nails on a chalkboard, forks on a plate, those sorts of sounds. But there are also sounds, which are already unpleasant, that are even worse when paired with something else. Say a crack of thunder against dead silence, car alarms in the middle of the night, or your fire alarm going off for unexplainable reasons. But the worst would probably be an alarm clock at 7:30 AM on a Saturday, a day, in my definition at least, _meant_ for the sole purpose of sleeping in.

“Alright, alright!” I mumble tiredly, slamming my hand on my alarm’s ‘off’ button. I drag myself out of bed, stretching, and trudge to the bathroom.

After my face is washed and my teeth are brushed, I browse my closet for something cool to wear. Most people think it would be impossible to try on 20 different outfits on ten minutes, but I suppose I would be the exception this morning. Eventually, I settle on a green tank top and a pair of denim shorts, along with a pair of running shoes.

I grab my cell phone and walk out into the dining room, where my mom has already made me a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, an apple, and a glass of apple juice. I sit at the table, mutter a ‘thank you’, and begin to shovel it down.

“Slow down hon, you still have twenty minutes.” Mom tells me, drinking her daily cup of Earl Grey. “Don’t forget, I still need to put some sunscreen on you, and your lunches are in the fridge.”

I nod, already halfway through my plate, and check my phone.

 

**From: Jonny-Boy** **J**

**7:38 AM**

**Wakey wakey eggs and bakey! See you soon lol**

**To: Jonny-Boy** **J**

**7:43 AM**

**Haha, make sure you eat breakfast! I’ll see you in a bit Jonny Boy!** **J**

After I’m slathered in sun block, mom brushes my hair into a ponytail and hands me a bag with a few bottles of water, our lunches, and a disposable camera. I smile.

Oh, the joys I’ve had with these things. Field trips to the zoo…okay that was my only memory of using one.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” I exclaim, rushing to my room.

I look through my various piles of CDs, and begin to panic when I don’t see it.

“What are you looking for?” mama asks from my doorway.

“My ‘Road Jamz’ mix CD!” I reply frantically, looking under my bed. “It’s the only way I’ll know if he has good taste in music!”

Then, I slowly stand, approach my stereo, and press the ‘eject’ button. Out pops my Road Jamz CD and I grab the case for it.

“What’s even on that CD?”

“Some Earth, Wind, and Fire, Tool, Daft Punk, and a few Commodores songs.”

Mom shakes her head and hugs me.

“And that’s how I know you’re my daughter.”

The doorbell rings, and I gasp.

“That’s probably Jon…” I say quietly.

“Aren’t you gonna get the door?”

I’m abruptly overcome with anxiety, and I begin to tremble.

“You know, I’m suddenly not feeling so well.” I place a hand on my stomach. “We’ll just have to reschedule.”

“Like hell.”

Before I can even respond, mom leaves my room, and I can hear the sound of the front door being opened. I place my ear to my door.

“Hi there! You must be Jon! Skylar’s been going on about you all morning!”

_Dammit mom, I have not and you know it._

“Well, I can certainly see where Skylar gets her beauty from. It’s lovely to meet you, ma’am.”

“Oh, I like you already! And please, call me Sherise! Skylar’s room is just down the hall, she’s waiting for you.”

_No I’m not, no I’m not, no I’m not!_

I back away from my door as I hear footsteps approaching. Two soft knocks ring out, which remind me of my thrashing heartbeat, and Jon enters.

“So, you’ve been going on about me all morning I hear?”

“Careful,” I warn jokingly. “You only met me yesterday. For all you know, I could be driving you to your doom.”

_Your doom? Really?_

“Oh, I’m terrified, trust me.” He holds out his hand, which I reluctantly take. We leave my room, and I grab the tote bag as we reach the living room.

“Wait!” mom exclaims, digging through the bag before retrieving the camera. “Let me get a picture of my baby’s first date!”

“Mom, it’s not a date!”

“She’s right. If I may quote Skylar, it’s a ‘tour thing.’” Jon taunts, removing my hand from his and snaking it around my waist, which brings on an intense blush. “But, she could take a picture of our first ‘tour thing!’”

“Smile!”

I force a smile, because, if I’m being perfectly honest, this technically _is_ a date, I just don’t want to admit it. And I guess I’d rather Jon and my mom get along than not like each other.

The camera clicks, and my mom grins.

“Okay, you two have everything? Water, sunscreen, lunch, bathing suits? A condom?”

“MOM!” I yell, but she just laughs.

“I’m just teasing. I’d have to murder the both of you if you did that. Anyways, have fun, and be back before eight.”

“We will. It was wonderful to meet you Ms. Sherise, and, don’t worry, Skylar’s in good hands.” Jon says cheerfully.

As we walk outside, I unlock the car and give him a death glare.

“Not cool man.”

“Oh come on, it’s fun to tease you. I can see why your mom likes to do it.”

We get into the car, and I put the tote bag in the back seat.

“So, Road Jamz, huh?” Jon asks, turning the disk over in his hands.

“Where did you get that?!”

“You almost dropped it when we took the picture, so I grabbed it.”

I start the car, and Jon slips it in the CD player.

“ _I know it sounds funny but I just can’t stand the pain. Girl, I’m leavin’ you tomorrow…”_ Jon begins to sing along, and I realize, he’s definitely in choir for a reason.  I mean, he sings, _and,_ he knows the Commodores? He’s the whole package!

“ _Seems to me, girl, you know I’ve done all I can.”_ I join in. _“You see, I’ve begged, stole, and I’ve borrowed.”_

We continue the song, until we begin to reach the key change, and I stop, unsure I’ll be able to hit the note.

Jon taps my hand, and I glance at him.

“Hey, if we sound like crap, at least we’ll sound like crap together.”

I smile, and just as the key change hits, Jon and I sing out. For a moment, it seems like the world has stopped. Never, through all the CDs I’ve listened to, all the DVD concerts I’ve watched, through all the songs on the radio I’ve sung along to, have I _ever_ heard a harmony so enthralling.

Jon notices it too, because he goes completely silent, mouth hung open in awe.

“We, uh, we make a pretty good duo, huh?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah, I guess we do Jonny Boy.” I smile.

After about thirty minutes of driving, to say I’m impressed with Jon is an understatement. He’s known all but two of the songs on the CD and was even able to harmonize with the two he didn’t know.

We reach our first stop, Garden of the Gods, by about 9:00, and I look to Jon, a bit embarrassed.

“I know it’s sort of a tourist attraction, but I have some pretty special memories with this place.” I say quietly.

“Well,” Jon replies, taking the camera from the tote bag, “let’s make a few more then.”

Jon and I climb over the orange rocks, and take a few pictures, with one being me leaning into a shot of Balance Rock with a doofy expression on my face. We walk around the park section of it, and take a picture of the mountains and two of the Kissing Camels.

“That gives me an idea…” Jon grins suspiciously.

“No way,” I reply, “I don’t think it’s possible for a person to turn into a rock camel.”

We keep exploring the park, but I eventually have to drag Jon away. We still have two places to go.

“Okay, where to next?” He asks, buckling his seat belt.

“A pond I used to go to as a kid.” I reply, driving away. “The water’s always warm, and it’s pretty secluded, so it’s really peaceful.”

We listen to the CD again, with Jon commenting on a few of the Daft Punk songs, telling me the years they were released and the like.

“Wow, you must like them.” I remark. “I’m a fan myself, probably their biggest.”

“Nope, that would be me.”

“Uh, no, it’s me.”

We play argue about this for a little while, before he stops.

“Alright, if you’re their biggest fan then when did the album Homework come out?”

“1997.” We both say simultaneously.

“Ha!” Jon laughs. “Jinx, you owe me a kiss on the lips.”

“A diss on the Crips?” I ask, feigning ignorance. “I dunno, I don’t wanna be another life lost to gang violence.”

Before any awkward silence can ensue, we pull into a space between two pine trees.

“Okay, I’m gonna get changed.” I say, slipping off my shirt.

“Woah, woah!” Jon exclaims, looking away. “You sure you wanna do that with me in the car?”

“I’m wearing my suit under my clothes, you dingus.” I reply. “Don’t worry; I’ll get out so you can change.”

I exit the car, slip my shorts off, and wade into the lukewarm water, sighing.

It’s been years since I’ve come here. I remember when my mom and I would come up here just to swim and relax when I was a little girl. I miss those days sometimes, I never had a care in the world, I just wanted to have fun. That’s what being a kid’s all about, having fun until dinner time, and then crying because you don’t want to go to sleep, only to conk out five minutes later. Being a kid is all about being care free, and when I visit this spring, that’s exactly how I feel. Like I’m still seven years old, and the world beyond those trees doesn’t exist; just me, the mountains, the pond, and the trees.

I’m startled from my trip down memory lane by the sound of the car door closing, and Jon emerging in a pair of swim shorts.

“Come on, the water’s perfect!” I call happily. “Jump in!”

“If you say so…” Jon says mischievously.

“Wait don-” I begin, but am cut off by Jon cannon ball-ing into the pond, splashing me with water.

Jon emerges, with a stupid grin on his face when he sees my expression.

“That’s not what I meant when I said ‘jump in.’” I say, trying not to smile.

“Then why don’t you say what you mean?”

_Oh, is this the game we’re gonna play?_

“Fine, Jon is a cute weirdo that I’m having tons of fun with today.”

_Okay, you didn’t need to add the ‘cute’ in there._

“Oh, I’m cute now am I?” he boasted. “Just how cute am I then?”

_Great._

“As cute as a jelly fish.” I reply.

“A jellyfish isn’t cute.”

“Maybe not to you. _I_ happen to think they’re adorable.”

_Alright, you can stop now._

“Hm,” Jon strokes his chin in pretend thought. “We’ve held hands and now you’re calling me ‘adorable.’ Sure sounds like a date to me.”

“ _IT’S NOT A DATE!”_

A few birds flutter from their perches on the pines, startled by my sudden outburst.

“Well, if it’s not a date, why do I keep trying to-” he begins to swim towards me.

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

I swim down into the pond, a bit further than I normally would, and hold my breath. Jon swims past me, but can’t see me hidden behind a small pile of stones that have been here since my first visit. I emerge from the water, and begin to dry off with a towel from the trunk.

Jon comes up a moment later, panting and gasping.

“I win. Now dry off, I wanna get to the top of our next stop by sundown.”

“Why sundown?” He asks as I hand him a towel.

“You’ll see.”

After we’re dry and clothed, we get in the car and start to eat our lunch.

“So, where’s our ‘next stop?’” he asks, digging into his sandwich.

“It’s a steep set of stairs with an awesome view. Or so I’ve heard; I’ve never climbed it myself. It’s called ‘The Incline.’” I reply, swallowing a bite of my ham and cheddar.

“Then here’s to finishing it together.” Jon says, cracking open the water bottles.

I chuckle, take one of the bottles and sip.

Lunch only takes us five minutes to finish, considering we’re both famished, and the drive to the incline is serenely wordless. We just simply listened to the CD for a third time, and I found myself glancing to Jon’s face more times than I care to admit. He never seemed to notice, with him either looking out the window or aggressively lip-syncing to a song with his eyes closed. I didn’t mind though. In fact, if I could pause time and spend eternity in this car with him, listening to the same fifteen songs, I wouldn’t be doing too much complaining at all.

By the time I park the car in the visitor’s lot, Jon has nodded off. I decide to indulge myself, and study his features for a moment before I wake him. His cheeks give off a round, boy-ish quietly, which conflicts with the slightly-patchy beard it seems he’s trying to grow. His eyes, though closed, seem as lively as the moon’s bright wonder, and his lips seem soft enough to pass for Dahlia petals. Now that I’m actually looking at it, his hair isn’t curly, it’s just a soft mess of bouncy waves that beckon me to run my fingers my fingers through.

“Jon,” I whisper, shaking his shoulder.

“Hm?” His eyes flutter open, and he looks around. “Did I fall asleep? I’m sorry, geez, that’s so rude.”

“No, it’s fine. Like I said, you’ll need that energy. Let’s go.”

I exit the car, taking the two water bottles.

“Ready?” Jon asks, holding out his arm.

I marvel at the gargantuan set of stairs before me, and take a deep breath.

“Ready.” I reply, linking arms with him.

There are three stages to the incline. The ‘this is so easy, why do people complain about this?’ the ‘oh, this is why,’ and the ‘please end my suffering, how much further can the top be?” After about thirty minutes, Jon and I are at the ‘oh, this is why’ stage, and need to rest for a bit. But soon, we’re back up, encouraging each other whenever we see that one of us is starting to slow down. Both of our water bottles are empty, but the sun is setting and the top is just a mere forty steps away.

“We’re almost there Jon, come on!” I call excitedly.

After about ten more minutes, we walk over the last step, and sit on a bench.

“Don’t look until the sun sets.” I warn him, looking behind me.

“I won’t.”

The sun dips below the horizon, and darkness settles around us like a blanket.

“Okay, on three.” I nearly whisper.  “One…”

“Two…”

_Three._

Jon and I turn our heads, and I’m in no way prepared for what I see.

Pure blackness below me, but golden yellow light adorns the darkness like an ocean that thins out into a gentle stream. The moon and stars shine confidently over the view, and I feel like, for the very first time in my life, that seeing something can completely change your outlook on being alive. That one view was enough to convince me that beauty wasn’t just something you could see. It was something you could hear, taste, smell, and touch. I could hear the breeze rustling against the leaves, taste the mountain air on my tongue, smell the musk of a fox that had wandered by, and feel the touch of Jon’s warm hand on mine. It was something that could never be dared to be compared to anything else. It was too great to describe with earthly words and adjectives, too great to ruin with phrases and similes.

“Wow…” Jon says, hushed, as if he speaks too loudly, the view will disappear.

“It’s …magnificent.” I whisper back, gripping Jon’s hand.

“Best date ever.”

I stay silent.

“Hey, you didn’t correct me this time.”

I turn to look at him, certainty gleaming in my eyes.

“I didn’t need to Jon. This was always a date, I just didn’t want to admit it. But, the more time I spend with you, the more I want this day to last longer and longer, and…”

I look away, trying to find the words to continue.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Jon shakes his head.

“No.”

I bite my lip, feeling as foolish as one possibly could.

“Not until yesterday, that is.”

His grip tightens against my hand.

“I’ve never been so stupidly happy in my life. You just… you just bring out the side of me that I always keep to myself, and I don’t know how. I’ve only known you for a day and a half, and you still feel like my best friend. It’s weird. You’re weird.”

“So are you, Jon.” He studies my eyes as best he can in the lack of light, and I smile. “So are you…”

This time, I’m the one who leans in, and I press my lips to his. He starts for a moment, then places his other hand on my shoulder. The rousing feeling in my chest and stomach are indescribable, all I know is that, though almost overpowering, I never want to stop feeling it.

Jon pulls away so slowly, almost as if he’s forcing himself to move away, and checks his watch.

“It’s quarter after seven, we’d better get back.”

“Yeah, let’s…yeah.”

We rise from the bench and ride a ski lift down to the parking lot, where I reluctantly get into and start the car.

“You alright?” Jon asks softly

“I’m fine. Perfect, really.” I sigh. “I just…don’t want this night to end.”

We drive back with no music for the most part, but when we stop at particularly long red light, I ask Jon to retrieve a small cassette tape from the glove box.

“Have you ever heard ‘You Are’ by Lionel Richie?”

Jon shakes his head, so I pop the tape into the player, and press play.

“ _Baby you'll find_

_There's only one love_

_Yours and mine_

_I've got so much love”_

_“And needing you so_

_My love for you_

_I'll never let go_

_I've got so much love”_

Jon nods to the beat as the song continues.

 

“ _All I want is to hold you_

_Let me show how much I love you baby (show you)_

_I don't mind and I don't mind (loving you)_

_Girl I love you_

_There's no one above you”_

_“You are the sun_

_You are the rain_

_That makes my life this foolish game_

_You need to know_

_I love you so_

_And I'd do it all again and again”_

 

Just as I pull into the driveway, the song ends with a flourish, and I look at Jon. He lets out a quiet laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…this whole thing is so cliché, it hurts.”

I smile.

“Yeah, pretty sappy, huh?” I agree.

“I wouldn’t change it for the world though. Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”

Jon and I approach my front door, hand-in-hand, and knock. As if she’s been waiting there, mom opens the door not even a full two seconds later.

“You’re ten minutes early, that’s what I like to see.” she chirps. “Did you two have fun?”

“Very much miss. I enjoy your daughter’s company more than I enjoy my own.” He reveals, squeezing my hand.

My mother lets out a lighthearted laugh. “I wish I could say the same.”

“Hey!” I object playfully.

“Would you like to come in for some dinner Jon? It’s still warm.”

“That sounds lovely Miss Peterson; however, I’ll have to take a rain check for now. I’m pretty beat from the hike. But, I do appreciate it.”

I hug Jon so tightly, he wheezes, but nonetheless, he returns the squeeze.

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“I’ll see you Monday.” He promises with a kiss on my cheek.

“Alright hon, go upstairs and eat, I’m sure you’re hungry.”  Mama says, giving me a little push towards the door.

I walk inside, but stand around the corner and eavesdrop.

“Thank you Jon, for making my daughter so happy. I haven’t seen her this bright and cheerful in a very long time.”

“It really is my pleasure Miss Peterson. She makes me just as happy, if not more.” Jon admits. “I lost a lot of my friends moving here, but Skylar has shown me such wonderful kindness. You’ve done an excellent job raising her, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“I don’t sweetie, thank you. But really, you’ll have to come back for dinner soon.”

“I’m a man of my word.”

“I trust you then. Goodnight Jon.

“Goodnight, Miss Peterson. And goodnight Skylar, who I _totally_ can’t see behind that corner, listening to our conversation.”

My mind draws a blank, and I say the first thing that enters my mind.

“If you’d like to make a call, please enter twenty five cents.”

This sends both my mother and Jon into hysterics before they bid their goodbyes, and I sit down at the table, picking up my fork.

“So,” Mother says, sitting beside me. “How did it go?’

“Oh mama,” I replied dreamily, setting the silverware down. “It was so…magnificent. Jon’s smile never left his face, he recognized almost all the songs on my CD, we sang together, and we helped each other hike the incline. We swam in the lake together, and took pictures of Garden of the Gods, and, right when we finished hiking, we looked out at the view and…”

“And?”

“And we…well, we…”

“Your lips locked in a moment of fiery passion?” she giggles.

“I suppose that’s _one_ way to put it.” I said shyly.

She places a heaping plate of chicken broccoli Alfredo in front of me, and I look up at her in disbelief.

“I thought you’d be pretty hungry after today. Now eat up, and then off to bed with you, you’ve had a long day.”

I finish my dinner in record time, and head off to brush my teeth and get into my night clothes.

Is it possible to fall in love with someone so quickly? I mean, I’ve had crushes before, but they were just silly little infatuations that I developed over the course of months at a time. But Jon was just so…unlike anyone I’d ever met. He was so friendly, so easy to talk and laugh with. While my ex-boyfriend had too many flaws to count, straight from the beginning, I couldn’t think of a single thing I didn’t like about Jon.

I lie down, my thoughts swimming in what seems like a whirl pool.

_Did he have as much fun as I did? Is he thinking about me too? Did he like the kiss?_

Just as I’m nodding off, mom slips into my room, and sits on my bed again.

“Mom?” I tiredly mutter. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing sweetheart, it’s just…” she trails off, hesitant. “Did you tell him?”

“About what?” I ask stupidly.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Oh yes, I do know what she’s talking about. The deal breaker in my last relationship, and surely this one too. I had come close to telling him a few times today, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. We were both having such a good time, I didn’t want to ruin the moment with something so awkward, so I just kept my mouth shut.

“I will, I just… I _really_ like this guy mama, and…I don’t want him to run off.” I sigh. “I know I have to, but, what if he leaves?”

“Then he was never the one for you, Skylar.” She replies calmly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “No matter how much you like him, if he can’t accept your boundaries, then it’s not meant to be.”

With that, she kissed me goodnight and leaved just as quickly as she’d entered.

She’s right. Damn it, why is she _always_ right? My mom has never been one to sugar coat things; she always tells it like it is. If you don’t like it, too bad for you, because she’s not changing her mind and she’s not going to make it easier. Mom has a certain unspoken policy: the world sucks, and if you can’t accept that, you’re doomed to experience the worst of what life has to offer.

She never kept things like death a secret. When my grandfather died, all she said was:

“Papa went to a lovely place because he’s dead, and that means you don’t live anymore. Everybody dies at some point, so that’s why, above all; you have to make your time here count for all it’s worth.”

No, my mother was not one to hide hard subjects from me. And she never will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guy's think so far? I hope you're enjoying it!!


	3. Secrets, Secrets, and More Secrets...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was bound to come out at some point.

The next few weeks were more enjoyable than I’d anticipated. I didn’t get another detention, though Jon did every now and again. Choir was also picking up. The class had accepted Jon as one of their own, after seeing how much I liked him, and had quickly given him a nickname: JonTron.

When he asked about it, they simply shrugged and said, “It rhymes.”

Mr. Young, who’s always in high spirits, skipped into the room on a stormy Wednesday morning, happier than usual.

“Alrighty everyone, listen up!” he said, clapping his hands. “I have excellent news!”

We all fell silent listening closely and expectantly.

“First of all, the new robes are in! Today will be fitting day for every one!”

There was a murmur of excitement, and a few people high-five each other.

“What’s the second thing?” Turon asks impatiently.

“As you all know, I signed us up for competition about three weeks ago…” he pauses, for what I _think_ is dramatic effect. “Our school has been chosen for an all-expenses paid trip to New York for the 53 rd Annual National Choir Competition!!”

As the news settles, everyone is dead silent, as if they can’t believe it. Then, the entire room, including Jon and I are screaming and jumping up and down, causing a few security guards to burst in. However, when they see the whole class hugging Mr. Young, they realized what they heard were not screams of terror were screams of pure excitement.

“I can’t believe it!” I cried excitedly. “We’re going! We’re actually going!”

But when Mr. Young clears his throat and sits down, we know something’s not right.

“What’s wrong Mr. Young? This is a dream we never thought would come true!” A soprano, Chloe asks warily.

“There’s one minor drawback. There’s an acting portion.”

We all look at each other uneasily. Acting? Whoever thought of acting in a choir competition? This isn’t Broadway!

“Now, I know none of you are familiar with theater, but, fortunately, they’ve given us a specific theme: 1950’s romance.”

“Romance?!” Someone nearly shrieks. “With all due respect Mr. Young, everyone here is about as romantic as dirt, except for Jon and Skylar.”

“This is precisely why they’ll be playing the male and female leads!” He says, glancing in our direction.

“What?!” I say a bit too loudly. “Mr. Young, I’ve never acted a day in my life! How in the world am I supposed to pull that off?”

“I took advanced theater for a few years when I still lived in California. A few tips, and you’ll be fine!” Jon explains, throwing his arm around me.

“But-” I object.

“Look, you love him don’t you?” Turon asks.

“That’s awfully personal Turon.” I snap, sending a death glare his way.

“Oh give it a rest Skylar!” Chloe titters. “Literally _everyone_ knows you two are dating. Half of us even nominated you for cutest couple in the year book!”

“Mr. Young, how could you do this without at least asking us first?”

“I called both of your parents and they both said it was fine with them! Now, on to the actual show. Skylar, you’ll be wearing a red vintage dress, and Jon, you’ll be wearing a black and white suit with a fedora. The rest of you will be wearing your robes.”

The class groans collectively.

“Jon and Skylar will be singing a rendition of Celine Dion and Frank Sinatra’s ‘All The Way, and I’ve already prepared the sheet music.” Mr. Young stops to point to us. “I expect you both here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for rehearsal. Turon will be in charge of make-up.”

About five minutes before the bell rings, I’m so angry I can hardly speak.

“Remember everyone, this will be a televised event, and we have one month from today to practice. We have to make it memorable

“Skylar, wait up!” Jon calls as I walk out the door.

But I ignore him, and trudge off to French class.

This is ridiculous! To think, _I’m_ the female lead of a show I didn’t even know about! I don’t act and dance, I _sing._ It’s the one thing I can do best! And on another note, how could mom and Jon not tell me about this? I may not be the most ‘up-to-date” person, but I at least like to be in the loop about something involving _myself._

While Mrs. Moreau is snoozing away, I slip out of the classroom and dial mom’s number.

“Hello?”

“Mom, we need to talk. How could you give Mr. Young the ‘ok’ on me acting in a lead role on _national television_ and not even tell me about it?!’

“I thought it would be a nice surprise! It could be your big break.” I can hear her smiling on the other end, which sends me fuming.

“A nice surprise?! Mom, I’m freaking out! I can’t act! And the competition is one month from now! How am I supposed to balance my forte with something I’m not even familiar with?”

“Hon, I’m still at work. Listen, I know I should have told you, and I promise I’ll make it up when I get home, but right now, I have another call. I’ll pick you up after rehearsal at four.”

“Mom, don’t you da-”

I’m cut off by a small click at the other end.

Well, if I wasn’t mad before, I’m manic now.

French class seems to pass all too quickly, and soon, I’m sulking all the way down to the drama room for rehearsal.

Jon and Mr. Young are already there, with Mr. Young making a few corrections to Jon’s suit. I hate to admit it, but Jon looks pretty dashing in his outfit.

“Oh, there you are Skylar!” Mr. Young says happily, rising from his knees. “I’ll just leave you two alone to familiarize yourself with the script. I’ll be back in a bit to get you fitted for the dress.”

With that, he exits the room, leaving Jon and I by ourselves.

“Skylar-” he begins, but I hold my hand up, cutting him off.

“Don’t start, because I’m mad at you too.” I say hotly. “How long have you known about this?”

“Only for a few days; I honestly thought your mom would tell you.” He replies. “Why are you so nervous about this anyway?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’ve never acted a day in my life and the first time I’ll be doing it will be televised live!” My voice has risen to a shout, but I’m too angry to stop. “You’re used to this, but I’m not! I can’t be focused on acting; I need to think about _somehow_ matching my voice to Celine Dion’s, which will take all of my effort even without the stupid theater portion!”

Jon approaches me and places his hands on my shoulders, and it’s only then that I feel how hard I’m shaking.

“Skylar, you will be _fine.”_ He states soothingly. “You have drive, passion, and talent. Not to mention a face made for T.V.”

“Compliments will get you nowhere with this Jon.” I mutter stubbornly.

“No,” he smiles, reaching into his bag and retrieving a wrapped slice of chocolate cake. “But food might.”

“You are seriously not bribing me with cake right now.”

In response, he retrieves a can of whipped cream from his back pack as well.

I take both from him, unwrap the cake, drown it in whipped cream, and take a huge bite.

“I expect one of these every rehearsal.” I say after swallowing.

Jon grins triumphantly, and begins to read over his script.

“’Oh Skylar, the only thing I could think about while I was in war was the sweet sound of your voice.’”

I scoff and roll my eyes. Cliché much?

“’Darling, there’s no one in the world that-”

“Okay okay, stop.” Jon interrupts. “Why do you sound like a robot? I just came back from war, you should be excited, happy!”

“I just think these lines are so…predictable. War in the 1950’s was all anyone talked about. Why can’t we act like it’s reuniting after years of being separated by family opinions?”

Jon ponders this for a moment.

“Okay, how about we improvise our lines then?”

“I guess we could do that…”

“’Skylar, I thought I would never see you again!” he says dramatically, embracing me.

“Yes, our families seem hell bent on keeping us apart Jon.” I reply, returning the hug. “But we’re together now, that’s all that should matter my darling.”

Jon pulls away, surprised.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Act sincere! That’s exactly how you need to act on stage! I’ll keep going.” He continues. “Now that we’re eighteen, there’s nothing they can do to interfere. My love, it makes me want to...”

“Want to what, my sweet?”

“ _Sing.”_

I fake a gasp.

“But, I haven’t sung in years!” I hand my head and pretend to wipe a tear. “And you haven’t since…the accident.”

“We can try, my dearest. We can try…” he says sincerely, tilting my chin up to look at him.

He walks over to the stereo, and presses play. The beginning chords ring out and I close my eyes, recalling the words.

Just as we finish the song, Mr. Young barges in with the red dress.

“Here,” he says, handing it to me. “Put this on in the bathroom and come straight back so I can tailor it.”

I walk off and change, and when I come back, Jon and Mr. Young, who are deep in conversation, stop and look at me.

“What?” I ask.

“Sky, you look…” Jon whispers.

“100% camera ready!” Mr. Young cheerfully declares. “It fits you perfectly! I don’t even need to tailor it!”

I look away, slightly embarrassed.

“Thanks, I guess…”

We’re allowed to leave practice at four o’clock, so after reciting our improvised lines to Mr. Young, (who’s a sucker for Romeo and Juliet themed romances) and getting his okay, we memorize the lines and song.

“Great.” I sigh, sinking into a chair. “Now all we need to learn is the choreography. By the way Jon, you should know I have two left feet.”

“Same here.” He says, taking a seat next to me. “I’m gonna need this whole month just to learn the steps, but we’ll get it. It’s just like the Incline, except, you know, not at all.”

I let out a small laugh, and Jon intertwines his fingers with mine. I turn to look at him, and see that he fixed on my face with a look of such contentment; it seems he’d never want to look away.

“Stop staring at me Jon.” I mumble, tearing my gaze away.

“Sorry, can’t help it. Looks like you’re just gonna have to deal with me rubbernecking at you all the time.”

“First of all,” I begin, holding back a smile. “I’m pretty sure you _can_ help it. And second, rubbernecking just sounds like a weird term for massaging your neck.”

Jon shakes his head, and tightens his grip on my hand.

“I’ll look at you all I want. According to the rest of the class, we _are_ the cutest couple.”

“Oh whatever, if we were the cutest couple, then why haven’t we kissed since our first date Jonny-Boy?”

Jon’s face flushes a deep shade of pink, and this time, it’s him who looks away.

“To be honest, that was my first kiss. I thought I didn’t do a very good job.” He says sheepishly.

I’m actually a bit surprised, considering how Jon had tried to kiss me three times on our date before I actually leaned in for one. And when we actually _did_ kiss, I certainly couldn’t tell it was his first. He didn’t try to open-mouth kiss me, or lean in too hard. It was a nice, chaste kiss, perfect for someone who likes a relationship to move as slowly as I do.

“I couldn’t tell Jon. I thought that kiss was perfect.”

“You did?”

“I did. And,” I repeated, “I’d certainly like to do it again some time.”

Jon smiles, moving his other hand up to touch my cheek, and begins to lean in.

“How about right now?”

I grin, leaning in as well.

“I suppose I could clear my schedule…”

His lips brush against mine for a brief few seconds, then catch onto my own. His hand rests itself at the nape of my neck; his other still latched my right.

While our first kiss was short and sweet, this one was completely different. Jon seems much more sure of himself this time around, and his soft lips linger against mine before moving slightly to conform to my lips a bit better.

The stirring feeling I felt before returns with a peculiar warmth that roots itself deep in the pit of my belly, and I bring my left hand up to run through his hair. His hair is much softer than I had anticipated, being almost as soft as his lips. I let my hand say at the back of his head, my fingers entangled on his wavy black locks.

“Ahem.”

Jon and I pull away to see my mother, with a rather smug look on her face, standing in the doorway.

“Mom!” I say, quickly removing my hand from Jon’s hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d pick you up at four.” She replies, pointing to a clock on the wall that reads 4:06 PM. “Of course, I can give you love birds another minute or two.”

Jon scoots closer to me, resting his elbow on my shoulder.

“Yeah Skylar, she can give us another minute or two…” he teases suggestively.

“Oh shush.”

Mom chuckles to herself.

“Well, I’m glad to see you two getting along.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be?’ Jon asks innocently.

Now normally, my mother’s face is as beautiful as a rose in full bloom. When she’s angry or sad, the rose seems to burn or wilt. But there are plenty of signature looks my mom has, as I’ve said before. This look, however, is the dreaded ‘you-didn’t-tell-him-yet-and-now-I’m-going-to-make-sure-you-will.’

“Jon,” Mother asks cautiously. “Has Skylar talked to you about anything particularly serious lately?”

“Hm, no, not that I recall.”

My mother nods decisively, then whips around and shuts the door, leaning against it.

“Mom!” I cry, rushing to the door. “What are you doing?! Let us out!”

“Neither of you are leaving this room until you tell him.” She responds coolly through the crack in the door. “And I can hear you through this door, so I’ll know if you say it or not.”

I try to press against the door, but even though my mother is relatively thin, she can be as strong as an ox when she wants to be, and the door doesn’t budge.

“Skylar, what is she talking about?”

I sigh, and stop pushing the door.

“I wanted to tell you before Jon. Really, I did.” I say in a small, defeated voice. “There’s something I’ve been keeping from you, and I…”

I trail off, unsure of what else to say.

“Skylar?” Jon approaches me, but I hold up my hand again.

“I’m just… I’m abstinent, okay?” I bury my face in my hands.

“You’re what?”

I’m trying so hard not to cry, but I’m failing miserably. Hot tears slide down my cheeks, and all I can do is imagine the things he’ll say to leave me.

“I’m saving myself, for, you know...marriage.”

Now I’m just full blown crying, sinking to the floor.

“Hey,” Jon says comfortingly, sitting beside me, laying his arms around me. “Hey, Skylar, it’s okay…”

“No it’s not!” I sob. “Because you’re gonna leave me for someone who’ll put out!”

“Are you crazy?” he replied, stroking my hair. “I’m not leaving you.”

I look up at him, a few strands of hair sticking to my wet cheeks.

“You’re not?”

“Of course not. Everyone has their boundaries, and I’ll do nothing but respect yours. If you want to wait for marriage, then we’ll wait for marriage. I’m not gonna pry at that.”

It feels so surreal to hear someone say that, a teenage boy nonetheless.

“Boy, that other guy really hurt you, didn’t he?”

“Jon, I can’t believe you’re really gonna stay…” I whisper.

Jon just shakes his head, and helps me up.

“Look, I know we’ve only been together for three weeks, which is why I’m not gonna come out and say ‘I love you’ right now. But the truth is, I like you a lot more than I’m trying to let on. I’m not going to leave you for something as minor as your view on sex and when you want to have it, because I honestly can’t believe someone would have the audacity to do that. I want to be with you as long as I’m able to, so yes, I’m gonna stay as long as I’m possibly able.”

He reaches up to brush my hair off my face and wipe a tear away.

“So please don’t cry, because I’m not going anywhere.”

I hug him so tightly, I can hear the breath leave his body, but he wraps his arms around me as well.

I hear the door open, and my mom stands there, hands clasped together.

“Skylar honey, I’m sor-” she begins.

“Don’t apologize mama, because now, I can stop walking on eggshells.” I say blissfully, letting go of Jon.

Mom just smiles.

“Jon, I do believe you said you’d take a rain check for dinner. How does tonight sound?”

“I think that sounds just perfect ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make this part kind of emotional, did I do a good job? I know it's not exactly a major secret, but I thought it would add some depth to the story. As always, your feedback is loved and appreciated, as are all of you!


	4. Carrot Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew a slice of carrot cake could be so disastrous?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is a bit shorter than the others have been, and I do apologize for that. Also, there is a panic attack in this chapter. If that brings back any bad memories, then please feel free to skip ahead. Although, if you do suffer from them, I recommend reading over the 5-4-3-2-1 section. It's pretty helpful. Love and hugs!

“So,” Mom says, swallowing a bite of brown rice. “Jon, Skylar tells me you’re into video games. Which one’s your favorite?”

Jon seems pleasantly surprised. Most guys would expect the whole ‘what are your intentions with my daughter’ talk, but it seems my mother’s already certain Jon is harmless enough. My mom was never really a fan of small talk, she prefers to jump straight to opinions and the likes of another person.

“Well, it’s a bit hard to pick one, but I’d probably have to say the Banjo-Kazooie franchise.” Jon replies. “It’s pretty fun to play and the story line always makes me laugh.”

I silently chew my food, amused. Mom doesn’t know from Mario to Link when it comes to video games, but it’s sweet to see her trying to figure it out when I talk to her about it. I did mention Jon having a liking for them a few times, so I guess she’s chosen that as Jon’s personality frontrunner.

Dinner goes smoothly, not an awkward silence or nervous laugh in sight. That is, until mom brings out three slices of carrot cake, which used to be my father’s favorite desert. Why in the world would she make this? Did she just miss him, and think this was the next best thing? Don’t get me wrong, I miss him too. Every now and again I’ll lock myself in my room and just cry into a pillow about how much I miss him, but, why this? Why so all of the sudden?

“Thank you Miss Peterson!” Jon says cheerfully, taking his plate. “Carrot cake is my favorite.”

Simultaniously, my mother and I tense up. The room fills with an uncomfortable stillness, and Jon looks around.

“What, did I say the secret word?”

“No, no.” My mother gives a forced chuckle. “Carrot cake was just… It was also Skylar’s father’s favorite.”

“Oh!” Jon flushes. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be. There’s no way you could have known.”

We each begin on our cake, but I have a hard time swallowing mine. It feels like it’s just a mouthful of glue, but I force it down my throat.

It tastes so good; too good.

 It reminds me of when he was still here. I would come home from 1st grade and fly into his arms. He’d read me bits of the newspaper while mom worked on dinner. When it was time to eat, my father was always the first to finish, eager for desert. Without fail, every night’s desert for him would be my mother’s carrot cake. He never got tired of it, never complained, he just ate piece after piece, complimenting my mother on it nearly every time he took a bite.

The last time we had it was the night he left.

“I suppose you’re wondering why her father…isn’t really around Jon?”

I look to Jon, pleading with my eyes for him to say no, but before he can object, my mother cuts in.

“Zachary struggled with lung cancer since Skylar was about four, and he was in,” she stops to take a breath. “So much pain.”

_Focus on your food, don’t listen._

“Skylar would always want to go to the hospital to see him when he was admitted. She just crawled on his lap in the bed and laid there until we had to leave.”

_Take a bite, chew, swallow. Take a bite, chew, swallow. You’re okay._

“I remember sneaking some carrot cake in the night he passed away, boy, his eyes lit up like a firecracker. At least he died happy, right Skylar?”

_Too much. It’s too much. I can’t._

“Excuse me.” I stand from the table and rush off to my room, slamming the door.

My heart starts racing, as does my breath. _Oh God, not now. Please, not now._ But it’s too late to plead with myself, because my anxiety attacks do not bargain. They run me over like a semi-truck, leaving me to clutch my chest, paralyzed on my bed, with my hands and feet falling numb.

I plant myself on my bed and grab a small pillow, digging my fingers into the plush fabric. Tears are already leaking from my eyes, not from pain or sadness, but of anger.

_Helpless. Why am I so helpless? I can’t breathe. I need air, give me air. I can’t breathe._

There’s a soft knock at my door, and a strangled cry frees itself from my throat. I think it’s the word ‘no.’

But the door opens, and what’s worse is that Jon is standing there, rather than my mother. Geez, Jon’s finding out all kinds of secrets about me today, isn’t he?

“Skylar,” he says calmly. I hold my hands out, trying to gasp out at him to leave.

I don’t want him to see me like this, not trembling and breathless as I am.

But he pays no mind, and walks straight over to me.

“I d-don’t want you to s-s-see me like this!” I stammer, panicking.

He pries the pillow from my death grip, and lays me down on my bed.

_Cold; my hands are so cold._

Jon takes one of my frozen senseless hands and holds it in both of his.

“I want you to listen to me. Will you do that?”

I nod, trying to regain any self-control I could possibly have.

“Okay, I’m gonna count to three, and when I say ‘three’, you’re gonna take a deep breath in. One, two, three.”

I try to follow his instructions as best I can, but my breathing is still shallow and frantic.

“Let’s try again.” He remarks steadily. “One, two, three.”

I do much better this time, sucking in a mouthful of much needed air.

“Good job. Now, when I count to three _this_ time, I want you to breathe out. One, two, three.”

I exhale slowly, trying to pace myself. Jon says I’m doing a good job, so, that’s nice.

We do a few more deep breaths, and then he leaves for a moment, only to return with my mom.

“Alright, now we’re gonna do something different. Tell me five things you can see.”

I turn my head and look around my room.

“A mirror, a desk, and some blankets.”

“Two more.”

“A book and… and note pad.”

Jon seems satisfied with that, so he moves on.

“That was great, keep it up Sky. Now, tell me four things that you can feel.”

“Your hand, my bed, um…my clothes and a pillow.”

“Now, three things you hear.”

“Your voice, the water heater running, and my breathing.” I say slowly. Though leisurely, it seems I’m coming out of my nervous state.

“You’re doing awesome, and we’re almost done, I promise. What are two things you can smell?”

“Your cologne and mom’s brown rice.”

“Last one. What’s one thing you can taste?”

I hesitate before answering, but feel that I’m calm enough to not freak out again.

“The…the carrot cake.”

Jon helps me sit upwards, and rests his hand at my back, while my mom sits on the bed with us.

“How do you feel?” he asks quietly.

“Better…” I answer. “Much better. Where did you learn how to do that?”

“A friend of mine in Cali had panic attacks almost once a week, so I helped him out.”

“Skylar,” mom states, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring this on.”

I shake my head.

“Its fine mama, you didn’t know. _I_ didn’t even know.” I turn to look at Jon. “I just didn’t want you to find out about…all this. I wanted you to think I’m normal.”

He squeezes my hand, and it’s only then that I realize he’s still holding it.

“You’re perfectly normal to me. Panic attacks, abstinence, and all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm sorry for the shorter chapter. I pinky promise I'll make it up to you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. Your feedback will keep me going, so please tell me what you think, even if you think a suggestion is pointless, it's not to me! If you find anything misspelled, please let me know, as this wasn't beta read. I'm just sorta winging it!


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